


Burned by the heat of the forge

by Tamloid



Series: Reflections in a Mirror [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bilbo loves it, Dwarven Ones | Soulmates, Dwarven Stamina, Halls of Mandos, Husbands, M/M, Magic Mirrors, Marriage, Married Sex, Mirror Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Valinor, mentions of other types of assplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:01:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27612452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamloid/pseuds/Tamloid
Summary: Inside every dwarf was a forge. Right then, Bilbo could believe it.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Series: Reflections in a Mirror [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2006104
Comments: 19
Kudos: 213





	Burned by the heat of the forge

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Dripping Water](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27425797) by [Porphyrios](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Porphyrios/pseuds/Porphyrios). 



> Many many thanks to Porphyrios for the scene in "Dripping Water" in Yavanna's Garden, which inspired this fic.
> 
> Note the rating is higher than the rest of the series.

Bilbo had heard from reliable sources that inside every dwarf was a forge. It was the source of a dwarf’s drive, their fortitude, their strength, their ingenuity. It was also, reputably, the source of their all-consuming passion for craft or for partners. Bilbo wasn’t sure about all the rest, but right then, kneeling astride his husband and panting for air in the humid bedroom, Bilbo could well believe that a forge burned inside Thorin.

Thorin certainly felt forge-hot at his back, his skin and chest hair slick with a layer of sweat as they slid along Bilbo’s skin. His long, thick cock was a rod of hard steel as it shifted inside Bilbo and his arms were two bands of mithril wrapping around his chest and hips. Bilbo's mind had gone muzzy and he’d lost track of time, but the burn in his thighs and the matching one in his arse made him think they’d been at it for hours already, he thought happily through the haze of pleasure.

Bilbo let out something between a whine and a moan as Thorin left off sucking the tip of his ear and slowly pressed his hips forward once, rubbing against places deep inside at just the right side of overstimulation. Thorin’s mouth travelled down the curve of his ear, paused to nibble at his earlobe, and let out a hot breath against the sensitive flesh.

“Open your eyes, amrâlimê,” Thorin rumbled quietly.

Bilbo struggled to obey through the thick, heavy pleasure suffusing his thoughts. He opened his eyes with a gasp and met Thorin’s gaze in the mirror right in front of them. His breath was soon pushed out of him as Thorin ground his cock against Bilbo’s most sensitive spot, the pressure as relentless and unstoppable as the moving earth that creates mountains. His breath fogged up the reflective surface and, just for a moment, obscured the hot, tantalizing image of himself and Thorin making love.

Once, while sitting out in Yavanna’s Garden, Thorin had teased him about bringing himself to completion in front of their Mirror while peaking at Bilbo in the bath or in the more intimate moments of Bilbo’s self-pleasure. Although he had protested out of propriety, Bilbo hadn’t hidden his excitement at the idea as well as he'd thought he had. Thorin had taken to the forge later that week and months later he'd finally felt that it was good enough to gift to his husband. 

Thorin had just finished the mirror that morning and, as far as Bilbo could tell, it was a near-perfect replica of the one in the great Hall of Mirrors despite being freestanding instead of wall-mounted. He was sure that Thorin would disagree with the assessment and would eventually regale him with all of the subtle details that made Mahal’s Mirror superior. But when Thorin had brought it back to their home in the Mountain Bilbo had been a bit too eager to test the mirror out to listen to any such explanations. Not that Thorin had complained.

The mirror had been cleaned and polished when Bilbo had first seen it braced against the wall across from their bed. It was a brilliant testament to Thorin’s skill and to the many years he had spent crafting delicate leaf-and-acorn motifs while waiting for Bilbo. Hours before, its surface had perfectly reflected the strong lines of Thorin’s back and thighs and the sweep of his beautiful hair as he’d knelt on the floor at the end of the bed and between BIlbo’s knees and spent a long, long interval using his tongue and fingers to prepare Bilbo for his cock. 

But right now it was very, very dirty and nearly as debauched as Bilbo himself was, he thought with delight. Now, smears of sweat and oil marked where Thorin had lifted Bilbo up by the arse, pressed his back and shoulders into the hard plane of glass, and fucked Bilbo on his cock over and over with the sheer strength of his arms until they both came. Its once-shiny surface was covered with fingerprints where, during the second round, Bilbo had flattened his palms on it and braced himself against Thorin’s deep and powerful thrusts, torn between staring in the mirror at the shift of Thorin’s muscles behind him and hanging his head in pleasure. And it was striped with Bilbo’s seed when, after Thorin had cum inside him, he’d then knelt and pulled apart Bilbo’s cheeks to lick and suck at his rim until Bilbo joined his husband in completion.

But then, oh, thank Mahal for Dwarven stamina. Before Bilbo had fully caught his breath Thorin had maneuvered him back to kneel on the end of the bed, pulled the mirror closer, and settled on his knees behind him. Lightning seared through him when he remembered the heat of Thorin’s renewed arousal pressing against the reddened skin of his backside, the strength of Thorin’s knees forcing his thighs apart, and the rough-textured but gentle hand cupping his softened cock and near-empty stones and lifting them for a better view of the entrance behind. Thorin had been watching in the mirror as his cock slowly and inexorably pressed into Bilbo’s well-used hole. Bilbo had been watching the enraptured look on Thorin’s face.

Despite its current defiled state, the mirror still clearly reflected Bilbo’s utterly wrecked condition back at him. His body was a mosaic of supple skin tanned from the garden painted with splotches of pink from Thorin’s hands, mouth, and beard. Deep red drew the eye to Bilbo’s lips and nipples and cock that were swollen with blood drawn near the surface by his dwarf’s biting kisses or grasping fingers. Bilbo could see that his thighs were shiny with a blend of oil, saliva, and Thorin’s cum and his whole body glistened with sweat in the candle light.

This round had lasted for more than an hour already and was full of slow, hard, deliberate movements that burned him from the inside out. Each hot thrust from Thorin’s cock was separated by long stretches of him sucking on unmarked patches of Bilbo’s neck and shoulders, or plucking and twisting his hard nipples, or rolling Bilbo’s stones in his palm, or giving long strokes to Bilbo’s own mostly neglected length. When he felt that Bilbo’d had enough Thorin would pull back slightly and grind his hips forward once, just once. On each thrust Thorin alternately looked downward with a burning gaze as his cock penetrated Bilbo’s flesh or watched Bilbo’s reaction in the mirror with worshiping eyes.

Bilbo himself wasn’t idle during all of this. As the desire struck him he would reach back to grip and tug handfuls of Thorin’s hair and draw out those deep shuddering groans he couldn’t get enough of. Or he would twist his neck and back to capture Thorin’s lips in a deep kiss, or suck and scrape his teeth on two of Thorin’s fingers, or clench his arse on Thorin’s cock to gain even more stimulation and, hopefully, _finally_ , push Thorin’s endurance to its limit.

Just then he squeezed the muscles of his inner walls again and earned a stuttering thrust against his sweet spot accompanied by a deep drawn out moan from the dwarf behind him. Bilbo's patience broke at the sound.

Bilbo desperately met Thorin’s eyes in the mirror. “Please, my love,” he entreated with a voice made raspy from hours of lovemaking. He needed Thorin to _move._

Thorin’s eyes flared with lust. “Are you ready for more, amrâl?” he asked with another hard and devastatingly accurate thrust into Bilbo’s eager body.

He threw his head back against Thorin's shoulder and gasped, “Please, Thorin, yes!"

Thorin’s smile was bright with the love and devotion that had watched over him during the endless decades apart, but his beloved blue eyes were dark with arousal. Thorin’s arms tightened around him and his hips snapped up over and over in sharp movements that had Bilbo’s breath fogging up the mirror again. The fires of the forge flared up once more.

**Author's Note:**

> *posts fic, looks around shiftily, runs away*
> 
> Not my usual thing to write, but I decided to give it a go.


End file.
